


i'd like to be everything you need

by cxyst



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: ALL THE PAIN BASICALLY, Blow Jobs, Domesticity, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cxyst/pseuds/cxyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They kiss and grind until Harry’s mind is jumbled and hazy; all Louis’ lips on his neck and his hands fisted in the back of his shirt and warmth and cookies and new house smell and baby bump and love love love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'd like to be everything you need

**Author's Note:**

> this is for spencer, because she has the sweetest prompts ever and is so so special to me!! i changed it the tiniest tiniest bit but i really hope you like it, i tried to make it perfect for you hehe :))
> 
> BIG LOVE TO MIKAYLA AS ALWAYS BC SHE IS MY GUARDIAN ANGEL WHEN IT COMES TO FIC WRITING
> 
> title from boyfriend by justin bieber. i know, im shameless.

Harry wakes up to soft half-light and a warm baking smell wafting through the house. He stretches out an arm for Louis, but the other side of the bed is empty. It’s still warm, though, and he doesn’t ever have to tell anybody if he rolls over and buries his face in Louis pillow for a bit. (It smells like shampoo and sleep, faint hints of his ridiculous expensive cologne.) He wonders how long the honeymoon phase is meant to last. Thinks that his might go on forever.

When Harry does finally get up, his legs feel like jelly. That’s the first full nights sleep he’s had in a few days, with all the stress of moving in to the new place and taking care of Louis.

(But of course, Louis insists he doesn’t need taking care of; so headstrong that he won’t even admit to weakness as he hunches over the toilet bowl with awful morning sickness.)

He picks his way through the boxes still piled in the middle of their bedroom floor and down the hallway, wondering how so many things could be spilling out of them already. He’d been hoping to keep it all organised so they would have an easier job unpacking, but, as he should have expected, Louis has started messing it all up already. Harry smiles fondly to himself.

And the smile grows even wider when he steps into the kitchen and sees Louis, dressed in a soft grey t-shirt and sweats, fingers in a bowl of something at the kitchen bench. He looks over his shoulder as he hears Harry come in, licking his lips.

“Sorry babe,” he says, sucking a smudge of chocolate off his thumb and flushing a little. “Cravings, I think.”

Harry scratches his bare chest and shakes his head a little. “‘S fine.”

Louis leans a hip on the bench and Harry’s eyes rove over him appreciatively. His fringe is hanging loose the way Harry likes, and his arse looks perfect in the clinging sweats. He has this almost embarrassed half-smile on his lips, eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks in the bright light of the kitchen.

And then there’s the little bump of his tummy. It’s just visible under the grey fabric, and it’s gentle and small, but there.

“You look gorgeous.”

Louis flushes darker, turns back to his bowl. “Mmm, I’m sure ‘fat chocolate fiend’ is a very good look on me.”

Harry rolls his eyes and steps in closer, bracketing Louis against the bench and leaning down to kiss the back of his neck. “So, so gorgeous, and you know it, Lou.”

“Christ, you’re sappy in the morning,” Louis groans, but Harry doesn’t miss the tiny shiver that trembles through his slim shoulders.

It’s warm, with the oven on, and the sharp sunlight slanting in through the windows. The kitchen, their kitchen, is still mostly empty, but for a few open boxes in the corner that it looks like Louis has searched through for his baking utensils. Harry breathes him in, presses a sucking kiss at Louis’ jaw that tastes like shampoo and sleep and ridiculous cologne, and slides his hands around Louis’ warm little waist, feeling out the small jut of his tummy. His own stomach feels tight and hot and fluttery. The baby. Their baby.

Louis leans back into him, letting out a little breathy sigh. “Hopelessly sappy,” he murmurs, but puts down the bowl and links his sticky fingers with Harry’s where they sit on the tiny bump.

“When’s it meant to start growing proper?” Harry asks softly after a moment. “Like, start kicking and stuff?”

Louis snorts. “That’ll be when I’m about,” he stretches his and Harry’s hands as far as he can reach away from his body, “this big, babe. Which probably won’t be long, considering all the chocolate I’m eating.”

Harry giggles a little, nose nudging lightly at the vein running down the side of Louis’ neck. “Will you be waddling around like an egg on legs, then?"

“One hundred percent,” Louis sighs exaggeratedly, playing it up. He rocks his hips back a little. “Better enjoy this body while you can. Might not even be able to get at my cock in a couple of months.”

Harry lets out a surprised cackle. “That’s impossible.” He hesitates. “Isn’t it? That’s impossible, right Lou?”

Louis, smiling, tilts his head back and quiets him with a quick kiss.

“Mmmm,” Harry says, leaning in again to lick into Louis’ mouth. “Taste like chocolate.”

He may or may not miss Louis’ mouth once or twice, chasing the sweetness.

“You’re a weirdo,” Louis complains, wiping around his lips. “‘M not a cookie.”

“Taste like one,” Harry murmurs, pressing his smile against Louis’ neck again.

Louis doesn’t answer, just leans back on his toes a little to get at the skin under Harry’s jaw, suck a gentle mark there, then tilt up to catch his lips. They kiss lazily for a minute, hot and open-mouthed. Harry can’t help fitting his hand under the soft t-shirt, stroking across Louis’ tummy again.

“Might find something you like a bit lower, love,” Louis teases, but his voice is breathy as he eases Harry’s hands down to the waistband of his sweats.

Harry murmurs, “Hey now, it’s barely nine,” but he is already half-hard against the dip of Louis’ back and rocking forward, trying for some friction in his underwear. He can almost hear Louis’ eyes roll.

They are teenagers still, they’ve agreed, in all ways but their birth certificates. It knocks Harry off balance sometimes, how much he feels for this boy in his arms. The honeymoon phase; like rolling over and burying his face in Louis’ pillow, like the way his heart still stutters and restarts when Louis smiles. Louis is the world, and Harry wants to kiss him on every continent, explore the way their bodies fit together like states and territories and map out his curves and edges to the tiniest detail.

And all this has surged up in his chest, now, and he’s turning Louis around to press his back against the shiny new kitchen cupboards, leaning down to share his smile with Louis’ mouth.

Love you,” he says, and hears ‘hopelessly sappy’ in his head before Louis even opens his mouth to reply. He kisses him quiet. “Shut up, you brat, I love you.”

He slides a thigh between Louis’ legs, if just to get him to stop protesting, and lets his hand find the dip and curve of Louis’ hip and his arse, finger slipping down over his hole fleetingly through his pants.

It works well enough; Louis is gasping, grinding down and back. “Don’t beat around the bush, do you?” He says. Then he bites down on Harry’s shoulder, starts leaving a red mark that will purple up later on, that Harry knows he will press his thumb into in the middle of a conversation, just to make his breath catch.

The light slanting in through the windows makes Louis glow. It settles in the hollow of his cheek, across the curve of his eyelid when he blinks, sets his skin all soft and golden warm. Harry looks at him between kisses, pushing his thigh up and watching Louis react. He’s so little and hot and responsive and Harry can’t stand it, can’t stand all the layers of clothing between them.

He tugs at the hem of the grey t-shirt, murmurs, “off,” into the breath between them. He keeps one hand on Louis’ stomach though, as he lifts it over his head. Just cradling, reassuring. No matter how much he wants to just bend Louis over and fucking ruin him; he wants him to feel safe more.

Louis looks up through his eyelashes with this tiny, hesitant half-smile, almost like he knows. He doesn’t tease him for being a sap, just tilts up a little and kisses him again.

They kiss and grind until Harry’s mind is jumbled and hazy; all Louis’ lips on his neck and his hands fisted in the back of his shirt and warmth and cookies and new house smell and baby bump and love love love. He sighs out fragments of words and Louis punctuates them with kisses to the line of his throat.

“Can I, Lou Lou, baby stop- Louis can I suck you off?”

When Louis looks up again, he is smiling wider, lips bitten pink and swollen. He rocks his hips forward, lets Harry feel his hard on through the sweats. “Get at it while you can, tiger.”

Harry hates him for how he can manage to keep his voice level, but he doesn’t say anything, physically can’t form a retort. He just tugs Louis’ pants down to sit around his knees and spreads his hands over the backs of Louis’ thighs and lifts him up to sit on the bench. It makes him feel a little more in control, watching the way Louis’ pupils blow out at the manhandling.

“Easy,” he whines, squirming a little on the cold bench top. His little hand comes down to press his cock up against his stomach so it doesn’t bounce. “’S cold.”

“Mmhm,” Harry says nonsensically. He is lost already in rubbing Louis’ thighs, kissing at the short hair on his chest. He looks down and thinks that he has never seen anything more beautiful than the pink tip of Louis’ cock smearing precome on the little swell of his baby bump.

Louis rolls his shoulders in a pleased little shudder as Harry knocks his hand out of the way and mouths at the head of his cock, tongue hot and soft against the slit. Then Harry pulls back and swallows hard, like his mouth is watering just from that. He curls his hand around Louis and drags it up slowly, thumb circling under the head.

“Don’t tease,” Louis chokes out around a whimper. “Please, babe.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry says, smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Too pretty.”

Ignoring Louis’ scoff, he opens his mouth and takes his cock in. He slides it over his tongue and wraps his lips around like he’s savouring it, bobs down once as far as he can before coming up to suck on the head again. His free hand rests on Louis’ stomach, thumb stroking absently.

Louis breathes out shakily, heels knocking against the cupboards as his toes curl. “Oh, fuck.”

Harry’s back is hurting a little from the way he’s bent over, and his elbow is digging hard into the counter, but he is achingly hard just listening to the muffled whimpers Louis is letting out. He takes his cock in deeper, lets it bump at the back of his throat and makes himself relax, breathing in deep through his nose.

Louis’ hand comes up to wind tight in his hair. His hips lift up from the bench and Harry lets his cock in the extra little bit, and Louis’ fingers scratch at his scalp as he groans, “Yeah, so good.”

Harry bobs his head and works his tongue over the tip. Louis lets out another low moan, then he is tugging Harry’s hair hard, pulling him off. When Harry looks up, wiping his mouth on the back of his wrist and coughing a little, Louis is smiling apologetically.

“Gonna come really fast,” he says, chest rising and falling quickly. “Sorry.”

Harry rolls his eyes, jerks Louis’ cock quick and tight. “C’mon Lou,” he says. He tilts his head and kisses his stomach, then up the side of his cock. “Come on.”

Louis’ head falls back against the cupboards behind him as Harry takes him in again and keeps his cock deep, throat working against the head. His tongue presses into the vein on the underside and his hand twists around the part he can’t reach, knuckles brushing Louis’ stomach.

“Oh fuck, I’m-,” Louis chokes out in warning. His cock twitches against Harry’s tongue and he comes in thick pulses into his mouth. His knees lift up and his thighs tense and his hand tugs painfully at Harry’s hair. He works him through it, mouthing at the head until Louis is trembling, shaky little moans of, “stop, oh, fuck,” escaping his mouth.

Harry lets go of his cock and straightens up smiling. Louis’ eyes are squeezed tight shut, slim shoulders shuddering with an aftershock. His fringe is sticking to his forehead in cute little tufts; Harry pushes it back gently.

“That was quick,” he teases quietly, leaning forward and nosing at the flush along Louis’ cheek.

“Shut up,” Louis whines, sliding his arms around Harry’s shoulders and nuzzling into his neck, voice hoarse. “It’s my raging hormones, or something.”

Harry just chuckles, slides a hand over the bump of Louis tummy again while he’s distracted. His throat is a little sore, but it’s nothing a chocolate chip cookie won’t fix.

“Hey babe,” Louis whispers into his hair.

“Mmm?”

“Do you reckon we have any ice cream?”

Harry smiles against his skin. “I’m sure we do, pumpkin.”

Louis pinches him hard on the collarbone, but presses a little kiss there after. “Don’t be a dick. What about chilli sauce?”

“No,” Harry laughs. Louis feels tiny and soft under his hands and he just wants to bundle him up on the couch and watch crap television for the rest of the day, but of course he offers. “I’ll go get some if you want?”

Louis’ answering smile is worth it. “Thank you,” he chirps, kissing Harry on the forehead. He hops off the counter and tugs his sweats up, making a cute little scrunchy face and tugging his shirt down over his tummy. Harry watches him fondly.

“Love you,” he says, thinking maybe he can get away with sappy if he hurries off to get dressed before Louis hears. 

Louis just rolls his eyes and mutters, “Sappy,” as he turns back to the oven.


End file.
